


That Intangible Feeling

by joyster



Series: The Beauty in Imperfection [8]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Dreams, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmare, Support, Zutara, Zutara Month, lullaby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 22:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10863168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joyster/pseuds/joyster
Summary: Zuko is plagued with nightmares but this time it's different.





	That Intangible Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> Written For Zutara Month 2015 Day 8: Lullaby

His father is standing above him. His hair is greasy, breath foul and voice as menacing as the last time. Zuko is back on the Agni Kai stadium floor, on his knees.

"I may not be able to bend, you weak, miserable failure, but I can still bend and break your honourless neck. Do you see what you have done to our nation? You've destroyed it; the economy, public relations, entirely your fault. You ruined the proudest nation in the world and made us the bitch of some wuss of a twelve year old kid with too much power than he knows what to do with. You should've killed me. He was too weak to but you could have. I guess you're weak too, you're even worse than that bald bastard. At least he could land a hit on me."

Zuko's world is spinning; his father's voice bouncing around his mind and making him ache all over. He wants to retort, to yell, to do anything but sit obediently and wait for death. But he can't. He's frozen, feeling sick and dizzy and terrified.

"You couldn't even kill me when I was defenceless. You're so pathetic, keeping me around because you think I know where your whore of a mother disappeared off to. I'm almost surprised you weren't smart enough to follow the umbilical cord that you clearly forgot to cut. Not that she'd recognise you anyway, with your retched, deformed face. Do you think she'd cry if she saw you?"

Zuko buckles over covering his ears with his hands, uncontrollably crying. His scar feels like it's burning all over again. His world goes black; he raises his head only to see his father's face three times larger than normal with the exaggerated teeth and brows of a demon mask. His father chuckles, deep and manically with the sound seemingly duplicated, and a clawed hand wraps around Zuko's neck.

"She would cry. I want to cry just thinking about the fact that you're my son. You're a failure. You know they still want me on the throne. The people aren't dumb enough to fall for this peace shit that you seem so set on spouting. They want a leader that can actually rule. They want the pride the Fire Nation once had back. They want your head on a stick. Come to think of it… I want that too." The former Fire Lord smirks wickedly, showing off the huge fangs.

"I hear your spineless Uncle moved back from Ba Sing Se to help you." Ozai guffaws and it echoes with an increasingly metallic sound. "That old coot is just as hopeless as you are. You've doomed the Fire Nation. Perhaps once I'm done with you I'll pay my _darling_ brother a visit. _Yesssss…_ " His tongue flickers and it's forked like a snake's, "I'll give him some of my new favourite tea... I may even let him use your empty skull as a tea cup, at least then you'll be of some use. Oh the tea. It's a new brew. Care to guess the secret ingredients?"

Zuko swallows though his mouth is dry, He can hear distant screaming.

"No? Here's a clue, rather than stupid leaves it uses the ground up bones of my good-for-nothing son."

Ozai's face splits with a grin and his laughter feels like physical attacks. The hand around Zuko's neck tightens and the claws dig in. He feels warm blood start to run down his chest.

Then there is a distinct comforting "shhh". He feels his hair being stroked. Everything falls like a curtain, he watches as his father's face ripples and disappears into an abyss. He doesn't even know if he's even real anymore. The screaming is still there and he believes he's dead. That's the only explanation.

_"Zuko"_

What was that? His mother? It was so fleeting. …such a soothing sound. It stopped. He's back and feels like he's drowning in the darkness. Everything is an empty, hollow black.

_"ZUKO"_

Again? Perhaps it's an angel. He's surely dead. He can't breathe. All there is… is the screaming.

And… a song?

He's vaguely aware of the screaming stopping.

On some level he knows that the awful sound was him.

Now all he knows is Katara. His head is cradled in her lap and she's stroking his hair to soothe him singing a tune he doesn't recognise in a language he doesn't know.

Something about that unfamiliarity is comforting.

He wants to be anywhere but here, in the Fire Nation. Her song transports him to the south without the necessity for a parka or over a week in a ship.

Despite it not being like anything he grew up with, it felt like home. Not what his 'home' had been but that intangible feeling of warmth and comfort and love that others associate 'home' with.

Memories of the dreams flash back into the forefront of his consciousness. He sits up. When he looks her in the eyes he knows that she won't think any less of him if he cries.

And he does.

To make up for every time he pretended to be strong.

He cries.

"It's okay," she rests her forehead on his. He holds onto her shoulders to stay upright.

He's gripping so tight she thinks it'll bruise but she says nothing. Her pain is nothing compared to what he's going through.

He faintly registers the door closing and the sensation of others' presence dissipating.

There is a plateau in his crying, his grip begins to loosen and he starts to whisper, over and over, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry". She pulls him into an embrace, stroking his back and repeating the mantra "It's okay".

Or at least it will be. Unlike the times before when he'd have the nightmare, she was there, pulling him out of it before his neck snapped and he died all over again.

"You want to talk about it?"

He shakes his head. His throat is raw.

She'd tell him the next day that his guards had been trying to wake him when she'd run in. He'd been clutching at his own neck, screaming deafeningly, his legs tensing and shifting systematically.

"Would you like me to stay?"

He nods.

She's lit by the moonbeams that slip through his window.

She looks tired and concerned, blue eyes filled with an expression he doesn't recognise.

"Okay."

And she does stay.

She's in a blue night gown and slips under the sheets of his bed, holding them up so he can crawl back under. He notes to himself that the red satiny sheets look like blood in this lighting and he decides that he'll get new ones commissioned tomorrow.

She's half propped up on an elbow with a gentle, sympathetic smile. Or perhaps it's an emphatic smile… he wonders how many times such a beautiful, kind and loving soul has woken from her dreams screaming.

He'd hate to know.

He lies down and she shuffles a little closer.

In the morning he'd realise how inappropriate it all was. The unattached Fire Lord had the stunning war hero and new ambassador in his bed. But at the moment all that mattered to him was the fact she was there.

She'd stroke his shaggy hair and placate him as he slept.

He could face his demons with her there beside him. He'd have a voice and an opinion that is valued.

He felt safe.

And it felt like home.


End file.
